


Eames in Zombieland (Apocaficlet 1)

by LithiumDoll



Series: Apocaficlet [1]
Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Apocalypse, Gen, Zombies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-31
Updated: 2010-10-31
Packaged: 2017-10-13 00:01:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/130592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LithiumDoll/pseuds/LithiumDoll
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eames fired a shot into the head of what, until recently, had been a blonde woman in her forties with a predilection for love beads and tie-dye. The blood stained peace sign emblazoned on the remains of her t-shirt was a bit depressing, to be honest, but he smiled as he added one more to his mental tally.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Eames in Zombieland (Apocaficlet 1)

**Author's Note:**

> May (or may not) contain themes of a dark/spooky/creepy nature, with actual or suggested character death and so on. Some of the apocaficlets are funny, some of them aren't. Some are kind of both. In the spirit of being Halloween-ey, I'm choosing not to be more specific. If you would like to know what you're in for, just comment and I'll give more details.

Eames fired a shot into the head of what, until recently, had been a blonde woman in her forties with a predilection for love beads and tie-dye. The blood stained peace sign emblazoned on the remains of her t-shirt was a bit depressing, to be honest, but he smiled as he added one more to his mental tally.

"Eighteen and a half," he announced smugly, and scratched idly at the back of his neck. 

"Eighteen," Yusuf corrected. "I told you, there are no points for Goths or the floppy haired ones unless they are actually undead."

“He  _looked_  undead,” Eames protested. “He had all the signs.”

“He had an unfortunate skin condition and you’re lucky your aim was off,” Cobb said from the far end of their temporary safe house, where he was attempting yet again to make cans of beans and hotdogs into a dinner that wouldn’t provoke suicide attempts. 

He was getting quite creative with the spices, really. 

At least, Eames hoped they were spices. 

And he was getting distracted. “My aim was  _not_  off - Arthur pushed me. Yusuf, you should dock points for that.”

“Arthur will not be penalised for saving lives,” Yusuf said flatly.

"Okay, fine,” he conceded. “But I should get double points for Granny - you have to admit that was a work of art."

Yusuf paused, stared into the middle distance as if calculating, and then nodded. "Agreed, double points for creative use of cheese wire, Ikea shelving and basic physics. Nineteen points."

"Then I should get extra points for the Pianist," Ariadne grumbled from where she was reloading in the corner.

The men collectively paled. "No," Yusuf said shortly. "Definitely not. In fact I'm deducting points." He crossed his legs.

"But I'm still in the lead, right?" Eames pressed. 

"There isn't actually a prize, you realise." Arthur pointed out, then took another shot out the window. "Fifteen." 

"The respect and admiration of my peers is more than enough for me, and all that saving people and whatnot," Eames said nobly, then returned to covering the hallway and planning his strategy. 

He considered the competition.

Arthur wasn't particularly imaginative with his kills, but Eames had to admit he was consistent - and easily the biggest threat to his lead. Ariadne had gotten distracted with Goldbergian methods of dispatch that were breath-taking when they worked, but took much longer to develop and tended to lose her points when they went horrifyingly wrong. And they went horrifyingly wrong quite – though he was careful not to make that  _suspiciously_  – often.

Yusuf had taken himself from the competition when he'd agreed to play scorekeeper. Cobb had flatly refused to have any part of their game at all, which was probably just as well because otherwise he’d be well in the lead. Although Eames was unsure where Yusuf’s scoring system was with explosives – to Eames that felt like cheating. And really, he should know.

Tomorrow they’d venture further into the city, there’d be opportunities everywhere to increase his lead. And by opportunities, yes, fine, he meant flesh-hungry zombies, but he’d always been the sort inclined to make lemonade.

And it was important to maintain his lead, it really was – he had to leave something for them to remember him by. 

He scratched at the back of his neck again. 

Wouldn’t be long now.

**Author's Note:**

> For: Doccy


End file.
